


Let's Stop Pretending

by alleycat35



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Feelings, Friendship, Lies, Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleycat35/pseuds/alleycat35
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam unexpectedly gains the ability to tell when his bandmates are lying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Not bad, Liam,” Harry murmured, lifting Liam’s forearm toward the light and eyeing the bold black arrows with fascination.

“You’re acting like you’re looking for some kind of secret message,” Niall laughed.

“No need for that,” Louis smirked. “I’m not sure if he could have made it more obvious if he tried. Four arrows pointed in one direction, Liam? Really?”

Liam withdrew his arm from Harry, blushing slightly. "Wasn't aiming for cryptic," he mumbled, pulling his arm in toward his chest and shielding the tattoo protectively with his other hand.

"Hope you weren't aiming for the aesthetic, either," Louis said with a laugh. "You look ridiculous."

A sudden stinging sensation prickled on Liam's freshly inked skin. Without thinking about it, he began scratching at it fiercely.

"Whoa, I was kidding!" Louis said, snatching Liam's wrist and pulling it away from his other arm. "It looks fine, Liam, really. You don't have to claw it off."

"I know, just got really itchy all of a sudden," Liam said with a cringe, pulling his arm from Louis' grasp and rubbing lightly over the arrow closest to his wrist.

Niall patted Liam on the shoulder. "At any rate, looks good, Payno!"

"Yeah, I like it," Harry smiled.

"You realize the fans will lose their minds over that?" Louis remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Liam smiled, lifting and lowering a shoulder. "Maybe not."

Louis shook his head sadly. "You're not as smart as you look," he said, slipping an arm over Liam's shoulders. 

Liam nudged Louis in rib cage with his elbow. "I can't help but feel like that's your way of giving me a compliment," he said.

Louis deadpanned. "You're just proving my point."

Harry was eyeing the time on his phone screen. "I'm pretty sure we were supposed to start rehearsing twenty minutes ago," he remarked.

"We were," Liam said. "Where the hell is Zayn?"

"Probably sleeping," Niall laughed. "We should really be used to this by now."

"I'm right here!" Zayn called out as he rounded the corner, joining the other boys backstage.

"About time," Louis said with mock stiffness. "You just about missed your chance to make fun of Liam's new decoration."

"Ooh, so you did get it?" Zayn asked, his eyes lighting up as they zeroed in on Liam's right arm. "Siiiiick. Looks good, bro."

"Thanks, mate," Liam smiled. "I'm right fond of it, if I'm honest."

"What took you so long, Zayn?" Niall asked.

"Traffic was bad," Zayn said dismissively. "Took forever to get here."

Liam winced as another violent itch surfaced on his arm, this time closer to his elbow. He instinctively reach up to scratch at it.

"No, don't do that," Zayn said, gently tugging at Liam's arm. "Not before it heals. You'll get an infection."

Liam lowered his hand, relieved that the itching seemed to have subsided on its own. "I know, I should know better than that."

Just then, Paul appeared from behind the curtain.

"Zayn!" he hissed. "Nice of you to show up. All of you, find your microphones before you get yourselves kicked out of the show."

Louis smiled as he turned loose of Liam. "In all seriousness," he said, "the ink looks good. A bit tacky, but it suits you."

Liam flipped Louis off. "Piss off, Tomlinson," he said with a smirk, "or I'll get the fourth arrow removed."

"I'm number one, and you know it," Louis called gleefully over his shoulder as he ran off in search of his microphone.

******************************

Once the rehearsal was over, the boys ran backstage to grab a much-needed drink of water.

"Sorry about that, boys," Liam said, cringing as he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle. "Don't know what happened there." Liam had harmonized flawlessly throughout the choruses of _Kiss You_ as usual, but his voice had cracked during the highest note on his second solo. He knew that it was just a fluke that could have happened to any of them, but nevertheless, he was nervous about returning to the X-Factor stage to perform for the season finale and didn't want to let anybody down.

"It was fine, Liam," Harry said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after taking a gulp of water. "Didn't even notice, to be honest with you."

Louis laughed. "You mean you didn't hear the cat dying in the middle of the song?"

Niall swatted at Liam's arm. "Liam, stop doing that. You have nothing to be anxious about."

Liam looked down in surprise. He hadn't even realized that he had been scratching at his arm again.

"Sorry," he said, blinking. "Just... umm... I dunno. I feel stupid when I mess up the vocals."

"The vocals were fine, Liam," Zayn said reassuringly. "I didn't hear anything wrong, either."

Liam slapped his hand over the tattoo, letting out a light hiss. 

"That thing really bothering you that much?" Louis asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah," Liam winced, rubbing at the lowest arrow. "I don't know why. It itches like hell."

"Don't scratch it, thought," Niall said. "Can't you damage it if it hasn't healed yet?"

"Yeah, it can happen," Harry said. "Especially if you scratch a scab off or something."

"Maybe we can find something to put on it when we get back to the hotel," Zayn said.

"Sold," Liam said. "Let's get on that bus before it leaves us here."

As they headed down the hall and out of the venue, Liam looked down at his arm and lifted his hand off of the tattoo to inspect it carefully. The skin was somewhat red and irritated from where he had been scratching at it, but it wasn't itching or burning anymore. It was rather frustrating that it had been doing so on and off throughout the day, given that it had been healing as well as he could have expected it to. He didn't know that much about tattoos, but he resigned himself to the fact that he would just have to put up with a little discomfort in the weeks that followed. 

Brushing the thought from his mind, he lifted his head and rubbed absentmindedly at the tattoo as he tried to figure out what struck him as being so odd about the conversation that had transpired moments earlier. There was no point in any of the boys pretending that they hadn't heard Liam miss that note. Louis was right; the sound had resembled that of an animal being strangled. As brilliant of a vocalist as Liam was, he still had lingering insecurities, so it had been rather kind of Harry and Zayn to protect his ego. He would have done the same as either of them. Regardless, there was something that just didn't seem right, but he couldn't seem to put his finger on what it was.

******************************

"Niall!" Liam laughed, putting a hand over his mouth. "Not again!"

Niall, who sat on the couch opposite Zayn and Liam (between Louis and Harry) instantly turned bright red. "No, I didn't..."

"Ohhh _God,_ " Zayn groaned, grabbing a pillow from the couch and shoving his face into it.

"Really, you couldn't have done that _before_ we got on the bus?" Louis exclaimed, kicking Niall in the side as he leaned away from him .

"It wasn't me!" Niall cried. 

Liam's laughter faded as he felt a familiar twinge on his arm. For once, he managed to resist the urge to scratch at it.

"It's always you, Niall," Harry griped, covering his nose and mouth with his hands.

"It wasn't this time! I swear!" Niall insisted. 

Liam's skin burned even more furiously, but he willed himself not to scratch and pressed the back of his arm against the couch cushion instead.

"You're so full of shit, Niall," came Zayn's muffled lament from behind the pillow.

"I'll bet it was you, Zayn," Niall said grumpily, folding his arms over his chest.

"Zayn's don't smell like that and you know it," Liam said with a grimace as he gave in, clawing frantically at the angry itch.

Zayn let the pillow fall from his face. "You're damned right they don... hey, no, _Liam,_ stop it!" He leaned over and grabbed Liam's right wrist, yanking his arm away from his scratching hand. "Really, it's not worth it."

"I'm not sharing a room with him tonight," Harry said, giving Niall a light shove.

"Well he's sure as hell not staying on the bus!" Louis exclaimed, grabbing the pillow next to him and fanning the air exaggeratedly.

Niall seized the pillow and began thwacking Louis repeatedly on the side of the head. "IT... WASN'T... ME!" he shouted.

Harry shook his head as he watched the scene unfold and then turned to Liam and Zayn with a smile. "I don't understand why he bothers lying anymore."

_Lying._

Liam looked down at his arm, still held tightly in Zayn's grasp.

"Look at that," Zayn said, pointing to the red, inflamed skin surrounding the second arrow from the bottom. "You scratched right over the ink. You can lose colour that way."

"I'll be more careful," Liam said hurriedly, pulling his arm away from Zayn and wrapping his other hand around his wrist.

Zayn squinted. "Liam, are you all right?"

Liam stared back at Zayn, his pulse quickening. If Zayn would have had access to his stream of consciousness in that moment, he would have thought that Liam was far from all right. The idea that was forming in his head seemed absolutely ludicrous. And yet...

"Zayn," Liam said in a low voice, "why were you late to rehearsal?"

Zayn stiffened. "Traffic," he said carefully. "Why?"

There it was: the moment the words left Zayn's mouth, the newly familiar burning sensation rose to Liam's skin. This time, the stinging originated from the arrow on the bottom, but it remained as distinct and undeniable as before.

"Why were you _really_ late?" Liam asked, hearing a distant tremor in his voice.

Zayn looked at Liam for a moment with curiosity, then shrugged. "I overslept," he admitted. "Kept hitting the snooze button, then before I knew it... but it won't happen tomorrow," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. I know I'm always late, but I'm not going to be late for the finale, I promise."

Liam thought he was going to be sick.

"I'm serious, Liam," Zayn continued, his eyes darting back and forth across Liam's face. "I know you're worried about the performance, but I'm not going to let you down. You don't..."

"I know, Zayn," Liam said dimly, suddenly overcome with dizziness. "It's fine. I don't care."

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because you look like you care a lot."

Liam, suddenly slack-jawed and unable to speak, simply shook his head. Zayn wasn't likely to believe it, but from that point forward, the performance was bound to be the last thing on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn squinted at Liam as if trying to see beyond what he was saying. Liam blinked back at him as he tried to make sense of his own thoughts.

"Y-you can just be honest, you know," Liam finally said, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. "No one would have been mad at you."

"Why is this such a big deal, then?" Zayn asked, looking irritated.

"It's not," Liam said hurriedly. "It's really not. Just tell the truth next time, yeah?"

Zayn shrugged. "Whatever you want, Liam," he said, reclining back against the sofa.

Liam blinked stupidly at Zayn once more, then looked down at his arm, rubbing gently over the lowest arrow.

Zayn's eyes drifted lazily over to Liam. "Try running it under warm water," he said. "Might help the itch."

Liam looked up, the cloud lifting from his eyes. "Yeah, all right, I'll try that," he said. He stood up from the couch and headed into the bus' small bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

He turned on the warm water and held his arm under the faucet. As the soothing warmth enveloped the sore and irritated skin, he looked up at himself in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh. What had he been thinking? There was absolutely nothing special about the fact that the ink was bothering him. At the tattoo parlour, they had reminded him that a tattoo was a minor open wound and that he should expect to feel mild burning or stinging sensations while it was in the process of healing.

He shut off the faucet and patted his arm dry with a towel, then held his arm up so that he could examine the tattoo in the mirror. The skin was still a bit pink where he had been scratching at it, but it didn't appear as though he had damaged the tattoo at all.

Running his fingers along the inked arrows, he stopped at the bottom one. It was no secret that his tattoo was a tribute to his four brothers. Though he had been telling anyone who asked that the arrows represented the boys in general, not in any particular order, he often thought of the bottom arrow as Zayn's arrow. Zayn was his rock. He was always there for Liam, keeping him grounded and stable. His friendship with Zayn had grown even stronger over the past year, and it was becoming a part of who he was: his foundation.

He walked his fingers upward slightly, resting them beside the next arrow. Niall. To Liam, Niall was the little brother he never had. Though Liam was scarcely older than Niall, he had always felt oddly protective of him, yet he depended on Niall as much as Niall relied on him. The arrow was a permanent reminder of the unique connection they shared, one that Liam would always be grateful for.

Trailing further upward, he paused to linger on the third arrow. Young Harry, a carefree spirit who was almost alarmingly wise beyond his years. Though Harry had been remarkably easy to get to know and even easier to get along with, there was always an element of mystery to him that kept Liam on his toes. He couldn't help but look up to Harry, taking inspiration from his enthusiasm and zest for life.

Then there was Louis. As candid and forward as Louis seemed, Liam found his relationship with him to be the most complex. He and Louis didn't always understand each other. Though they were equally fun-loving people, they were also equally stubborn in their own ways. Additionally, Louis' abrasive sense of humour wore upon Liam's sensitivity, so their personalities were bound to clash from time to time. Despite all of this, there was nothing that they wouldn't do for one another. Liam admired Louis in so many ways. As strong-willed as Louis was, he was also one of the most compassionate people that Liam had ever met, and Liam knew that he would always hold him high in esteem.

Liam sighed, smiling to himself as he lowered his arm. Zayn was right; he was going to have to start taking better care of the new ink. He was rather fond of it after all.

He turned at the sound of a quick knock on the door.

"Liam, you nearly done in there?" he heard Niall call out. "I need a wee."

"Tryin' to catch a wank, more like!" Louis called out.

"Shut up, Louis," Niall grumbled. "Fer God's sake, I wouldn't do that on the bus."

Liam stepped out of the way to let Niall into the bathroom, telling himself that the burning sensation returning to his arm was nothing more than his imagination.

*******************************

Liam blinked slowly, the sound of his alarm ringing obnoxiously in his ears. He reached sleepily for his phone and fumbled blindly against the screen until the alarm shut off. He rolled back over onto his other side to face Zayn's bed on the other end of the hotel room.

"Zayn," he yawned. "Time to get up."

Zayn hummed softly and rolled onto his stomach.

"Come on, Zayn," he urged, climbing out of his own bed. "We can't be late today."

"Gimmfieminutes..." Zayn mumbled into his pillow.

"You're just going to fall asleep again," Liam said. 

"No m'not," Zayn replied. "M'gettinup."

"Very convincing," Liam said, "but seriously, you need to start getting ready."

"I am," Zayn sighed. "Gettin' up right now."

Liam rubbed his arm. "I'm going to go brush my teeth. Are you getting up?"

"Yeah, g'brush yerteeth," Zayn mumbled, waving lazily in the general direction of the bathroom. "L'be ready by th'time yerrout."

Liam sighed, but he couldn't help but smile. "Zayn..."

"N'serious. Go. M'gettin' dressed r'now."

Liam winced, tightening a hand around his arm. Not only was it senseless to argue with barely conscious Zayn, but the tattoo was driving him nuts, and he had to do something about it. Leaving Zayn to his own sleepy devices, he headed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

He held his arm under the faucet and turned on the warm water, hoping that it would soothe the skin like it had done before. The burning subsided within a few seconds, much to Liam's satisfaction.

He turned off the tap and patted his arm dry with a clean cloth, then reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. He glanced up at the mirror as he was raising his toothbrush and had to pause. With the toothbrush poised in front of his mouth much like a microphone, the four arrows were on full display. Liam imagined himself up on the stage, bursting with the confidence and vigor that came being surrounded by the the people he cared about so deeply. The bold, striking design embodied their strength and unity as a team, and it was a symbol that Liam wore with a tremendous amount of pride. The mere idea of it brought him more joy than he could describe and made him that much more excited to return to the X-Factor stage where it all began.

He quickly finished freshening up so that he could attempt to rouse Zayn from his extended slumber, but just as he was stepping out of the bathroom, there was a loud knock on the door that joined the boys' two hotel room.

"You lads up yet?" Niall's voice called through the door.

"Yeah," Zayn called out from his bed. "M'almost ready!"

Liam's heart quickened in response to the stinging that coincided with Zayn's declaration, but the sensation went otherwise ignored.

"Come on, you," he said, grabbing Zayn's arm with both hands and yanking him out of bed.

Zayn tumbled to his feet, just barely managing to keep his balance. He looked up at Liam with half-lidded eyes, raising an eyebrow. "You really don't trust me, do you?" he muttered.

Liam watched as Zayn padded over to the bathroom, knowing that that question should not have been nearly that difficult to answer.

****************************************

Before heading to the venue to prepare for the X-Factor performance, the boys had been scheduled to do a brief radio interview with Nick Grimshaw. The five of them fidgeted anxiously in the small studio, finding it difficult to concentrate with the evening's performance looming ahead of them.

"Always a pleasure to see you boys," Nick said cheekily, grinning behind his microphone. 

"Likewise," Liam said with a smirk.

"Big fans of yours, of course," Nick said. "Loving the new album."

"Oh, you mean you've actually listened to it, then?" Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course!" Nick replied. "Start to finish."

"Really!" Harry exclaimed. "Name a song other than the one you're about to play."

Nick's smile only grew bigger. "All right," he said. "You've got me there. Never got around to listening to it, but I'm sure it's great."

The boys all chuckled at that. 

 "Really thought you could get away with that one, did you?" Louis said. 

Liam smiled. Nick was a bit of a bastard sometimes, but he was mostly harmless.

The interview only lasted for another five minutes. After all, the boys had to head to the venue to prepare for their guest performance. Nick kept the questions simple and brief, taking the time to congratulate them on their success and encouraging the listeners to tune in to the X-Factor finale to watch their upcoming live performance. Before they knew it, Paul was ushering them out of the studio and into the car just as Kiss You was beginning to play.

The drive was short but tense; nobody was really ready to admit it, but the nerves were slowly building. Liam was arguably the most nervous of the five. It wasn't that he was prone to stage fright; he just always felt a tremendous amount of pressure to give the best performance that he possibly could. 

He tried to calm his nerves by focusing on something else entirely, as he normally did, and found himself once again fixated on upon his new body art. He smiled when he realized that the fans were going to be seeing it for the first time. Tracing his fingers lightly across the prominent design, he thought back to how he had felt looking in the mirror earlier. The tattoo served as a constant reminder that he was never alone, on stage or otherwise. He always had his boys behind him.

He sat up a little straighter, determined to emulate the confidence that the emblem inspired within him.

When the boys pulled up to the venue, they were surprised to find a group of fans waiting for them around the backstage door. The performance was still several hours away, but it appeared as though the dedicated fans knew that they had to be early.

"We'll get them out of the way, don't worry," Paul said as they pulled up.

"Oh, come on," Liam said. "There aren't that many of them. We have time to take a few pictures, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding in agreement. "Why not?"

Paul glanced back out at the relatively small crowd. "All right," he conceded, "but we don't have all that much time. We need to get you into hair and makeup soon."

Once the car was safely parked, Paul and two of the other bodyguards stepped around to the side to escort the boys through the eagerly awaiting crowd. They were met with deafening cheers the moment the side door opened.

"All right, all right, everyone," Paul said, guiding the fans behind the railing that led up to the door. "Stand back, please."

The fans lined up anxiously to welcome the boys, who greeted them with broad smiles as they followed closely behind the bodyguards. Harry and Zayn moved ahead quickly, trying to get to as many fans as possible, whereas Louis took his time, taking every opportunity to entertain the crowd. 

"Oh, come on! We can do better than that," he said, shaking his head in mock disgust at a selfie he had just taken with a fan. "Let's try that again, but with _feeling!"_

"LIAM!" one girl cried out desperately, reaching out and grabbing at Liam's sleeve. "Can I get a picture with you? Please? You're my favourite! I..."

"She's lying!" the girl next to her said, cutting her off quickly. "Harry's her favourite!"

The first girl turned bright red, whipping around to face her former best friend. "WHY WOULD YOU..."

"It's all right, love," Liam said with a laugh, leaning in to take a picture with the two of them. "Harry's my favourite, too."

After they had signed as many autographs as they could, the five boys waved goodbye to their fans as the bodyguards ushered them into the building.

"Is Harry _really_ your favourite?" Louis asked, sidling up to Liam as they forced their way through the doors.

Liam smirked. "Jealous, are we?"

Louis scoffed. "Jealous? Of course not. Green is not my colour."

Liam laughed hesitantly. "Right, right. Should have known," he muttered, rubbing at the painfully itchy top arrow through his sleeve.

 _Coincidence,_ he thought. _Pure coincidence._

****************************************

Once all of the boys were dressed and prepped for the performance, they were instructed to wait in their dressing room until it was time for them to go on stage. Waiting around idly was doing nothing to calm their nerves, so they tried to keep themselves occupied as they awaited their cue. Zayn, Harry, and Louis were sitting on the couch, playing some kind of card game that didn't seem to be going very well. Liam hummed softly to himself as he glanced in the mirror, trying to keep his voice warmed up as he adjusted his clothing. He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt just enough to let his new addition peek out from under the cuff. Pleased with himself, he turned around to find Niall pacing back and forth, tugging his sleeves down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Nervous?" Liam asked with a light smirk.

Niall shook his head vigorously. 

Liam cocked his head to the side. "Not even a little?"

"No," Niall said. "What would I have to be nervous about? This isn't our first show. It's not like we... Liam, you're doing it again."

Liam couldn't help it; the stupid ink was driving him insane. He pulled his sleeve up further to scratch at the arrow that was bothering him.

"Stop scratching it!" Niall scolded. "We've been over this."

"I know, it's just..." Liam stopped suddenly and stared down at where he had been scratching. He turned back toward the mirror, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the reddening skin surrounding the second arrow. Niall's arrow.

"What is it, Liam?" Niall asked, his brow furrowing.

Liam didn't immediately respond. He stared unblinkingly at his reflection, tracing his fingers along the edge of the tattoo. It made so little sense that he just wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. The sensation was unmistakable.

"You're lying," he said, his low voice wavering.

"Well, no shit," Niall said irritably. "Of course I'm nervous. Being back here again, it's a big night, and..."

Liam raced into the small bathroom that was attached to the dressing room and closed the lid on the toilet seat, sitting down before his legs gave out from under him. He stared straight ahead, completely dazed and disoriented, trying to remind himself that what he was thinking couldn't possibly be real.

He clutched at his forearm, keeping his left hand wrapped tightly around the arrows. He could feel his own pulse racing along with his thoughts. It was just too persistent to be a mere coincidence. Every time someone lied to him, he could feel it. 

Caught off-guard by his silent admission, he paused to consider it further. _No,_ he corrected himself mentally, shaking his head. _Not "someone."_

He thought back to earlier in the day. There had been absolutely no reaction to Nick's dishonesty or to any of the little white lies from their adoring fans. Only when his bandmates, his brothers, were lying to him did he know for certain.

How could this have happened?

On an impulse, he snatched his phone out of his pocket and opened up a search engine. He started typing the word "tattoo" but immediately erased it, struggling to come up with a logical search term.

**side effects of**

_No, no,_ he thought, hitting backspace repeatedly.

**magical**

_Absolutely not,_ he thought angrily, trying to shake himself back to his senses. This was just ridiculous. He didn't know what he had been expecting to find, but he sure as hell wasn't going to unearth any secrets about his alleged superpower through a Google search.

He bit his lip in concentration as he attempted to piece it all together. He thought it possible that on some level, he had always had some sort of intuition when it came to his four best friends. After all, they had been travelling together for over a year. He still found the others hard to read from time to time, especially Louis, but he liked to think that he had become rather adept at figuring out how they were feeling whenever they were unwilling or unable to talk about what was bothering them.

He looked down at the four arrows. The prospect of having a tangible symbol of his devotion to his bandmates had delighted him from the beginning, but now it seemed much more than that. It reinforced their connection to one another in ways that he couldn't have possibly imagined. But what did this mean? Would it last forever? What would it do to his relationship with the others? What if they found out? How was he going to keep it a secret?

He was suddenly startled by a knock at the door.

"Liam," Harry called. "We're going on stage in five minutes... are you okay?"

Liam took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled, straightening up and preparing to join the others on stage. He had so many unanswered questions, but for the time being, his sole objective was to focus on putting on the best performance that he possibly could.


End file.
